Page 19 of Bound to the Griffin (Hillcrest Hollow Shifters #3)

Jackson

The bedroom was, if not drafty any longer, much cooler than the living room, where the fire burned.

The bed creaked, but the mattress was new—it still smelled like it—even if the rest of the room held a touch of mold and a whole lot of dust. In the aftermath, I had all the time to analyze the place, see what she had done and what she hadn’t.

Her work had mostly been focused on one of the front-room bedrooms, one she intended to rent out, no doubt.

Gwen lay curled at my side, one hand resting over my ribs, her breath steady, her body warm and pliant from sleep. She looked peaceful now—sated—and I’d done that. Despite the satisfaction from that, and the languor that filled my own body, my head wouldn’t quiet.

The money in the wall in that one room she’d made the most progress in was tucked behind the rotten plasterboard like a secret no one was supposed to find.

Who had put it there? If Halver had hidden it, why leave it behind when he left town?

And if he hadn’t… then someone else knew about that stash.

Someone who might be desperate enough to break into a B this was something dark that had her in its grip.

“Gwen,” I murmured, her name a hushed whisper in the shadows that filled her curtainless room. I cupped her cheek, feathered my thumb over her clammy skin, and tried to coax her awake. There was no response, not so much as a flutter of her lashes or a sigh.

Her hands curled into fists against her chest in a defensive pose, her whole body trembling.

My chest constricted, worry tingling down my spine.

This was a nightmare, and it had its hooks sunk deep.

“Gwen. Wake up, honey.” I shook her gently, then harder, and still nothing.

She was deaf to my voice and my touch, and that shouldn’t be.

Her skin was growing cold under my touch.

Too cold. Panic clawed at me, warning that more was at work here than just nature.

This was wrong, unnatural. I kissed her, hoping the shock of it would pull her through, whispered her name against her lips, pleaded.

They were the longest minutes of my life, a battle that seemed impossible to win.

Her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake.

The growl rose from deep inside my chest, unease the beastly side of me had no outlet for.

I was a man of action, point me at a target, an enemy, and I could be a warrior too.

This? This was a danger I could not fight, and Chardum’s words of warning tolled like bells in the back of my mind.

The danger within. That’s what he told me, to watch for a threat I couldn’t see.

It was here, all right, and I couldn’t fight this, and that made me feel powerless.

Light flickered over my skin, a sure sign that I was losing control of my instincts.

Faced with an enemy I couldn’t fight, the beast in me rose, ready to strike.

Fur shifted over my skin, feathers ruffled through my hair, and my shoulder blades ached as wings pushed to the surface.

And my eyes, they stung as they too began to shift.

Then I saw it: eagle eyes, sharp and piercing even in the dark. They let me see what I couldn’t before.

From the corner of the room—the window, closed tight and sealed—blackness seeped through.

It was not quite a shadow. This was not a trick of the faint starlight.

They looked like tendrils of darkness, writhing like vines, curling toward the bed.

Tentacles of some creature, or maybe vines.

I could not see enough of them to make out what they were. I just knew they were bad, really bad.

Something in me snapped, a visible threat to direct my anger at.

Heat and fury roared to the surface, feathers bristling under skin, bones shifting, tail snapping out to lash at the air.

My claws tore through and ripped into the sheets.

Then my voice broke into something not human; half eagle scream, half lion roar.

It shook the air, rattled the panes, and the darkness recoiled, snapping back through the window as if yanked by unseen hands.

Only then did Gwen gasp awake, sobbing and shaking all over.

I gathered her against me, my heart still hammering with fury.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.

” The instinct to shift even further faded with the disappearance of the shadows, and all my mate felt was skin and flesh, human, normal.

There was nothing normal about what had just happened.

I had never shifted in that way before: painful, partial, a fight for control.

She pressed her face into my chest, against the rapid beat of my heart.

Her voice shook when she spoke, small, terrified.

“It was just a dream,” she said, but it was as if she were trying to convince herself, not state a fact.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears when she raised her head to meet my gaze.

“It was a dream.” Then, as if trying to grasp back the tatters of her composure, she added, “I’m sorry, Jackson.

That was, well, I would like to tell you it’s a one-off, but I’ve been having those dreams ever since I got here. ”

I hissed in displeasure, furious to realize that she’d been under siege by something all this time.

Something from my world, unnatural as it had looked.

I had to get to the bottom of this, and she was not sleeping alone again, or in this house, for that matter.

Not until I’d gotten to the bottom of it.

She hadn’t had this dream at my cabin; I would have heard it, sensed it.

“Don’t apologize, honey. This isn’t your fault.

” I frowned and twisted my head to glare at the window, which she’d weatherproofed well enough to keep out drafts.

It looked closed, yet those shadowy fingers had reached in anyway.

“What do you remember?” I asked, though I didn’t want to.

She’d been terrified in her sleep, in the grip of that thing .

The last thing I wanted was to make her relive it, but how else could I find out what this was?

Her fingers curled against my skin, blunt nails pressing into my flesh.

I relished the slight bite of pain because it meant we were both alive.

I hoped it meant she was getting her fighting spirit back; she definitely sounded steadier when she spoke next.

“I can’t remember most of it. Just… it’s dark.

Cold. And someone’s always watching me.”

Rage simmered in my gut, unabated, even now that the danger had passed. Something had touched her, invaded her sleep—right under my nose—while she was under my protection. I wanted to drag her out of here this second, back to my cabin, where I knew I could keep her safe.

“Come home with me,” I said, sharper than I intended.

Though I already knew the answer, I waited for it with trepidation.

The cabin would be safe; it was nearby enough to make access to the B she’d soon know what it meant to be under the protection of a griffin.